It got me thinking about my own childhood and how blissfully unblogworthy it was. There are literally no photos of me under 18 months old. And my birthday parties and first school day photos are so far from the magazine-worthy stuff you see on some (not all) blogs today that I started to wonder who it's all for and if any if it matters to the child. It's like that old adage about the kid who gets an elaborate gift and winds up more enchanted by the box or the wrapping paper.
My childhood wasn't just these happy but unblogworthy moments though. I lost a brother, all my grandparents and my godfather before I hit my teens. We moved house countless times too. And even when we weren't moving my parents took us to open houses always dreaming of bigger, better things. In my childishness I took everything quite literally and was often made a liar by repeating their dreams as soon-to-manifest plans.
It's clear my parents were driven, aspired constantly to greater things and, in fairness to them, achieved many of them. But the effect it had on me as a child was to create this split between the life we had and the one we were aspiring too. I fell prey to their longing in a big way. It made me pretty materialistic, pretty young. I was aware of how big everybody's house was, what car their dad drove and, in my own quiet way, I was competitive about it. And in a stranger way, I identified myself as being different than our neighbours and peers because my parents seemed to want to move away from all that. But that wasn't really a superior feeling, it was an alienating one.
I don't mean to slam my parents. I admire them in so, so many ways. After secondary school, Dad apprenticed in a trade. But he put himself through nightschool and got all his degrees while working and supporting a family. I used to sit on his lap while he studied, the carpet around his armchair littered with books and me no doubt clamoring over them and wreaking havoc to get to him. And Mum held it together after losing a son, with a husband at nightschool and likely two constantly-disoriented daughters. Ireland's economy was the pity party of the EEC at that time too. So, Mum and Dad's daydreams had their use. And heavens knows, there are way worse things in the world than parents who like to daydream.
So, why am I writing about all of this? Well, because that blogger got me thinking about what effect that idealized blogged life might have on kids. And I think it could be similar to the effects my parents' wish for otherness had on me. It left me detached and a little aloof, with an anti-Gestalt mindset, always thinking in terms of befores and afters. Of course, I was happily oblivious to that as a child, it was just like playing dress-up. But it wasn't reality and didn't give me a truly strong sense of being-in-the-world.
On the flip side, it may account for why I'm crazily driven, like them, though perhaps even more determined to do than daydream. But it didn't teach me as much to be happy with the reality of what I have now. I latched onto mental snapshots of perfect moments that I wanted to live in instead of enjoying the real photographs of plain old Jane. But you know what I've realized? Plain old Jane, is way more interesting than that stylized character I had in my head.
Now, I don't know squat about raising children. It seems a damned-if-you-do, damned-if-you-don't scenario. But I do think a lot about authenticity in content creation; about how we portray our lives in blogs and the effects it has on readers, family, friends. And it's all well and good and true to say that there's always something aspirational about blogging. But I wonder about aspiration and its usefulness. And I wonder about the aspired-to life versus the good life in the eudaimonic sense.
And I guess that's what I've been thinking about. That and why Mum couldn't focus a camera for the life of her.
Though it was so long ago, I'm so sorry to hear about your brother.
ReplyDeleteI read some blogs by bloggers with kids, but I've had to stop reading others because I feel they shared too much about their children. I'm sure they're doing it with the best of intentions, but in my family, our favourite memories are the ones uniquely Us, that we shared together and won't sound interesting or funny to anyone else. Those are the ones I love the most. Plus, I wonder how these kids can grow up to have separate adult lives if their baby poop stories are on the internet? A little different from what you're saying, I think, but still.
I have this weird division in my head about blogging all the time. I feel some people share too much, but then I feel it's easy to receive a one-sided view of a blogger if only the good things are shared. I mean, it's why I stopped using Tumblr - there are only so may photos of cupcakes and skinny white girls laying in misty fields I can take!
Also, look at your little face! So cute!
Definitely something I've thought about quite a bit. It's a fine line I think, and one that I constantly question. I share mostly positives on my blog, but then I do also strive to keep it real. I have stopped following some blogs that seemed to focus a little too much on showing off that perfect life. And how many details? I do share pictures and what we did over the weekend and funny things they've said, but I don't share the serious stuff, the concerns, or even the sweet moments I want to keep for myself. I also strive for a balance - my blog is not all about my family or my kids...it's primarily for me. It's my way of focusing on the positives. It wouldn't be authentic if I didn't post about the biggest source of joy in my life (my family), but I don't want it to be all about them either. Also...they are very young. As they get older, I will probably include them even less - not 'cause I love them less, but to protect them a bit. I don't know. I think my answer would probably be different if more people read my blog too. Right now, it's mostly family and friends anyway.
ReplyDeleteThanks for making me think about it again, though. ;-)
~thank you for that post...i truly love the way you write and it helps me relate to my own life...beth
ReplyDeleteI love this post. Whenever I feel the need to make my real life "blogworthy" I step back and try to get a reality check. I do not like that feeling. I think a lot of times people are just trying to appreciate the good things in life and focus on the happy but the aspirational stuff does get out of hand for sure. Sometimes we spend too much time recording and not enough time living. My little brother has done some amazing things and traveled to far parts of the world but he never brings a camera because he says it takes him out of the moment. There's probably a happy medium there.
ReplyDeleteI love these pics of you, Jane! Especially the one in the blue dress!
Oh i think about this all the time. we lost all of our pictures when we where young do to a flood. My mum is a dreamer still to this day, i think that is why i always live in the clouds, which i do not thing is always a good thing. I know on paper or on my blog my life looks charmed( i use this word specifically, because i have been accused of it and it hurts) and although all the moments you see there are true, there is more behind it that is not always so blissful.
ReplyDeleteOne time I opened a new shop on the fourth of july, it was gorgeous in a historic town, there i was- a beautiful store, my husband had my niece elle in a baby bjorn on his chest and i had dylan by the hand there was a parade on the ourside it was something you would have seen in victoria magazine, i remember a costomer coming in and saying wow you life is so dreamy what she did not know to minutes before i was on the phone with bank desperately trying to hold on to my shop, those were not my kids and my husband well the shop was not his thing at that very moment after she said that- it hot me that everything out there in the magazine(no blogs at the time) are a vignette of a happy place but that is just moment in time not the whole picture!
This is such a thoughtful post - thank you for putting these questions out there. And thank you for sharing your story.
ReplyDeleteThey say that those who can't do teach. I chose not to have children, but have been working with families with young children for many many years. I have no doubts that the idealizations you refer to will have on effect on tomorrow's adult generation. Not to mention seeing their faces constantly in a public domain - I'm curious what effect that will have. To encourage empathy, you need to instill an understanding that others are out there, all kinds no less. I found this book a fascinating read on these sorts of issues:
http://www.amazon.com/NurtureShock-New-Thinking-About-Children/dp/0446504122/ref=sr_1_1?s=gateway&ie=UTF8&qid=1285868029&sr=8-1
Firstly, my Mum can't focus a camera to save herself either and she's the daughter of a photographer!
ReplyDeleteOne of the reasons I think I love your blog so much is because you do have an authentic voice.
It's interesting to think about and I hadn't really considered it before, Jane.
ReplyDeleteObviously, I don't have kids, so I can't speak to that.
But in my own life, I've noticed that I've already selectively edited my childhood, mentally, long before blogs existed. I didn't realize it until I took a memoir class in college and one of the assignments was to write a short one of your own. Mentally, I divide up the good and bad times, almost as if they were chronological (things were good for x number of years and then they got bad). But when I went back to examine it, I realized that the very good and the very bad had always been there, all mixed together. They're vastly separated in my mind, and I tend to remember lots of the good and not so much of the bad. So from here, the vague impression I have of my childhood is very idealized, and the bad memories sneak up on me and scare me at odd times.
It's amazing what our minds can do with our memories. I'm curious about how that plays out now that so much of our lives are documented (and with such better cameras), but I think my selective editing has been going on for my whole life.
As a mama who blogs, I think it's fair to say that motherhood grabs a hold you, spins you around until you're ready to puke, and then heaves you on your ass.
ReplyDeleteYour identity transforms. Becomes a mystery. Runs away and hides because it fears the small pink creatures that scream and bite and bring your awareness of bodily functions to a whole new level.
It's also lonesome. Terribly lonesome. Blogs offer a hand of friendship that is convenient, comforting, and quick.
I started out blogging about my kids. I got really good at blogging about my kids. It never settled well, though. It always felt like I was using their big blue eyes for attention, like their softness was an easy substitute for my decaying sense of self.
I stopped writing about them and found that I didn't have much to say. Everything seemed trivial and ridiculous and unworthy of attention. I dug my heels in and re-evaluated what I was presenting to the world--in my blog, to my friends online and in the flesh, to my man.
I had a pretty intense journey there for a bit. One that is still unfolding, but the vein has been tapped.
It's always great to stop in here. Thank you for putting it out there.
Thank you for this post, there is so much to say, that I can't really say. One, I don't think I can do it justice right now, and two, I am short on time - both one and two stem from same reason, it is 4.14 am here. I'm having less success than you with the night owl business.
ReplyDeleteBut the cuteness of the pics, the cuteness! Although you're right, I don't think that massive golliwog will be appearing on a fashionable mommy blog near you any time soon! He looked very friendly though, even if now not politically enough for them.
I have wondered about what children will think looking back on their mother's blogs. Will they even look back? I don't know how preserved and used the info will be then. I think if my mum had done a blog about me I would have thanked her if it made me look good and been livid if it didn't. Which kind of supports what you say, I guess, sucked into the before and after syndrome. I love open houses too!
But, thank you for this thoughtful post. Your parents sound great people. And, I've obviously never met this stylised Jane that lives in your head but I would guess that if you met her for a coffee, you'd soon find her lacking in a few crucial dimensions, and be looking for an excuse to get away.
I loved your blog today! I was wondering why the photos were blurry, too! I didn't realise you moved so much. Thankyou for writing so openly as you did, it's lovely.
ReplyDeleteSorry if I post this twice - just want to say I loved your blog today, thankyou for sharing about your childhood! And I was wondering why the photos are blurry!
ReplyDeleteThanks for this beautiful and open post.
ReplyDeleteI read this post last week, but I wanted to sit on it before sharing a comment. It's one of my favorite posts you've written Jane, as it really made me think. In the beginning, when i started to blog, I definitely found myself falling into the trap of thinking of things as "blog-worthy" which felt so inauthentic. Happily, blogging eventually became a natural rhythm in my day when I let it just come naturally, and I found myself being drawn more and more to blogs with a real voice and not just a pretty set of photos. I'm not a mom yet, but I do laugh sometimes when I see all the crazy hoopla of party planning that's prevalent on the blogs. My mom made us a cake for every birthday, and it was definitely a cake out of a box and there were no pretty garlands or anything except maybe a balloon — and I felt loved to bits and loved every party. I have to sometimes remind myself that while I love to create a pretty party, the best parties are the ones where you're relaxed and hanging out with people you love.
ReplyDeleteYou and I have had such different childhoods — and I can't imagine the hardship of losing a brother — and I appreciate that you've channeled your blog into being such an incredible source of community. Just look at the voices here and how you make us pause, think, reflect and share. That's what I love about Ill Seen, Ill Said.
ps These are some of the cutest photos! You're adorable! And I'm also the victim of next to no photos. Though somehow my brothers have amazing black-and-white photography of them from when my dad was into his camera.
this was an intriguing post, somehow you verbalized things that have been sort of lulling about in my mind, searching for form. they still are, but now i feel like i've got some corners pinned down.
ReplyDeletemost of all, though, i wanted to say that we had the same lion from the top photo, still do in fact.
Thank you for this post. As a mother who blogs, this topic is very touching to my heart. I see many photos of friend's children, posed just so (the way my own mother would like them) and all I want to ask is: what are you trying to capture? reality or pretty fantacy? I share photos of my little one, but mostly my blog is for me. It is my escape from work, from being a wife and a mother. We all need that.
ReplyDeleteI can also relate to having parents who aspire to bigger and greater. My parents moved us from Ukraine to Canada, and my childhood was spent figuring out who I am in this strange world, were I was not like others.
Today I, myself, am a workaholic, married to a workaholic. I really hope we are doing our best for the little one.
Thank you for a thought provocing post. It has been a pleasure discovering your blog.